


Only fools rush in

by syncxpate



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual Romance, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, not completely high school though heh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syncxpate/pseuds/syncxpate
Summary: Kim Kibum doesn’t fall in love. Never. No exceptions. Until he meets Kim Jonghyun. And then he starts thinking about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old fic that i found again xP kinda cliched but i also really like it.

Kibum is a bitch. Well at least according to Taemin. But Taemin isn’t that reliable. Also, he’s a little bit of a bitch himself. So.   
  
‘But he is!’ Taemin is uncharacteristically stubborn about this. ‘He laughs with you and smiles at you and lets you get close, but never close enough.’  
  
‘Speaking from experience, Taem?’ Jonghyun is never snarky, but Taemin makes him snarky sometimes.  
  
‘No!’ Taemin’s shocked face is hilarious.  
  
‘He only has that one friend,’ Taemin continues, indicating the silent giant hovering behind Kibum. ‘Choi Minho. Apparently they’ve been friends since birth or something.’  
  
‘Kinda like us?’   
  
‘That’s so irrelevant at the moment, you know. Pay attention! You’re the one who asked about this.’  
  
  
~-~  
  
Sometime in the course of his first day at this new school, it occurs to Jonghyun that teenagers are the same everywhere. Hormonal and dramatic. And that his best friend isn’t exactly made from a different mould.  
  
It’s almost weird, attending the same school as Taemin again. Falling quickly into teasing and sharp retorts, and too casual skinship again. Too much of their friendship has been conducted over the phone, and over the virtual waves of the internet. Frequent moving because of his father’s job isn’t the best way to maintain relationships, and the fact that Taemin made it a point to keep and strengthen their bond is something he’ll probably be eternally grateful for.  
  
But that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to call a guy a bitch with no supporting evidence.  
  
It was honestly just an innocent question. Who’s that attractive boy striding past their table? The same attractive boy he had classes with, the same boy that had looked at him during his introduction with almost insolence, and eyes that seemed to punch him right in the gut. He’s heard of aura but has never quite been assaulted by it before.  
His name is Kibum and it seems Taemin really hates him.  
  
Jonghyun thinks they have some kind of secret past. But Taemin’s horrified reaction tells him no.  
  
Apparently Kibum has a reputation. As much of a reputation a 17 year old can have at any rate. A reputation of a heartbreaker. Of someone who flirted and teased and let people think of almosts and forevers but then danced away like it meant nothing at all.  
  
‘That kind of person isn’t worth your time,’ Taemin says. ‘They don’t take feelings seriously, and they don’t know how to recognize it when someone else does.’  
  
‘Maybe he just hasn’t found someone he’s willing to love yet,’ Jonghyun suggests. And it sounds stupid even to him.  
  
Taemin laughs.  
  
‘Still so noble,’ He remarks. ‘You’ll realize that won’t save you here.’  
  
Jonghyun doesn’t say anything. But he’s thinking about Kibum. Of the narrow eyes and frank gaze and pale, almost luminous skin. Of the contours of his bones under his skin, and the way he moves like maybe he knows there are always eyes fixated on the sway of his hips and the strides of his long legs.  
  
‘Don’t become one of the fools drooling over him,’ Taemin snaps Jonghyun out of his thoughts.  
  
Jonghyun snorts. ‘I don’t fall in love with faces and first impressions. I thought you knew that.’  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Kibum laugh until his whole face is contorted and hit Minho repeatedly on his arm, and Jonghyun wonders what kind of heart lies under his chest, and where the route to find it is.  
  
  
  
Kibum wears his popularity and notoriety like a second skin. So what if people saw him as cold and cruel? He doesn’t give his heart away, and if sometimes he plays with the hearts people offer him too willingly, that doesn’t make him any less of a human. There’s something terrifying about falling in love, about placing your entire self into someone else’s hands, and giving them the ability to hurt you beyond repair.  
  
He thinks 17 is too young for such deep emotions.  
  
‘You just haven’t found anyone you care enough about to try yet.’  
  
Kibum sniffs at Minho. ‘Just because you found the “love of your life” early doesn’t make you an expert on this.’  
  
‘I would like to inform you I can hear the inverted commas.’  
  
Kibum laughs and sticks out his tongue at Minho.  
  
‘The new guy is kinda cute,’ Minho tosses out, non sequitur. And stares at Kibum meaningfully.  
  
‘I thought you didn’t swing that way,’ Kibum returns.  
  
‘I don’t. But you do.’  
  
Kibum laughs again, long and hard and free. He does think the new guy is cute, but he’s not going to tell Minho that. Not just yet.  
  
And just within his peripheral vision, he sees the blonde head of the new guy dart a not-so-sneaky glance at him.  
  
This could get interesting.  
  
  
It doesn’t get interesting.  
  
And Kibum is more annoyed about it than he’s willing to admit. He knows how to read people, their body language, the unspoken meanings of their eyes and limbs. And that new guy, that Jonghyun is easy enough to read. Each emotion etched across his very gorgeous face like black ink scribbled across white paper.  
  
Jonghyun is intrigued by Kibum. Not just attracted, like most people are, trying to see if maybe they would be the one to crack his shell. Or vicious, hoping to get under his skin and hurt him like he has inadvertently hurt some before.  
  
No,  _intrigued_. Like maybe, he’s not fooled by the flashy outer skin and wants to dig deeper into what lies beneath, what Kibum hides under layers and layers.  
  
Kibum wonders what Jonghyun would do with the information, if he ever found it, if Kibum would ever let him. Then he laughs mockingly at himself. Because for the first time, he’s a little curious. It’s simply because this boy is obviously drawn but has decided not to make a move at all. And it’s fascinating. Kibum, who lives under part appreciative glances and part vehement glares, is used to obvious advances, obvious insults. But all this guy does is quietly observe and this makes the whole thing a little more different than most.  
  
Okay so maybe it does get interesting.  
  
  
  
‘You have become one of those slobbering fools lusting after Kim Kibum! Jonghyun you disappoint me.’  
  
Taemin really does look disappointed, almost like a mother whose child has run off to play with that brat of a neighbour with a questionable background. And he looks so serious that Jonghyun has to bite back a laugh.  
  
‘I’m not, he’s just…interesting.’ Jonghyun’s voice trails away and he glances over to Kibum, and catches the eye of the boy. There is something cautious in Kibum’s face, something that he’s sure is reflected in his own. Curiousity. Inquisitivity.  
  
And that little bit of insecurity. Like maybe he doesn’t understand what’s going on in his own head. Then the facade comes down again, and Kibum flashes a smirk that twists in Jonghyun’s stomach and turns away.  
  
When Jonghyun looks back at Taemin, there’s something complicated in his expression. ‘That was weird,’ Taemin comments.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Jonghyun admits. And he lifts a hand to scratch at his head.  
  
Jonghyun never talks to Kibum. It’s just not something he has any intention of doing. Watching is fun, albeit slightly creepy. He likes paying attention to people, spinning stories of what they do and who they, wondering if maybe any of the tales he creates have any bearing on truth. He’s happy as he is, has enough friends to laugh softly with during particularly boring lessons, has Taemin during break, has enough intellect to do alright even for lessons he doesn’t particularly enjoy. So he really has no intention of trying to entangle his simple life with Kibum’s. He doesn’t think having eyes on you at every turn while you walk around the school and strangers whispering your name is something enjoyable.  
  
Kibum doesn’t seem to want to talk to him either, just watches him out of those strangely opaque eyes. Sometimes the shutters lift and he sees what he had seen that one time, the blatant aggressive interest, but most times now, the intent behind the piercing stares is hidden.  
  
He thinks they’ll spend the rest of the school year like that. Stalemate, motivations lost in the air.  
  
And maybe they would have, if Kibum hadn’t plopped down in the empty seat next to him during History and asked for help in music.  
  
  
Minho is enjoying this, the asshole. And perhaps if Kibum hadn’t been so ‘caught up’ with this strange preoccupation, he would find himself hilarious too. As it is, he just finds it annoying. Just finds himself annoying. There’s nothing particularly special about Jonghyun, just another boy in a school full of ordinary humans, but for some reason, this specific boy spikes something inside him, makes him far too aware of himself, far too aware of every thought that passes through his head, every word that drops from his mouth. Too aware of the eyes that roam curiously over him.   
  
‘It’s called a crush,’ Minho offers. And Kibum considers throwing his meal at him.   
  
‘I don’t get crushes,’ he hisses. 

Apparently Minho thinks it neccessary to laugh so hard he nearly falls off the bench.  
  
~-~  
  
It’s an accident, the day they walk past a music room just as Jonghyun is inside. Completely, utterly accidental. Which means, of course, that Minho immediately accuses Kibum of stalking.   
  
‘I do not stalk people,’ Kibum declares, almost imperious.   
  
Minho grins. ‘You have to admit Jonghyun is making you do a lot of things you keep claiming you don’t.’  
  
‘Shut up.’  
  
‘Ah, denial. Such a silly, stubborn thing~’  
  
And Kibum would have snapped back at him but there’s a voice floating through the gap in the door and everything around him stills. The first notes are soft, almost tremulous, like the throat it belongs to is unsure, then they steady out, becoming stable and strong. And beautiful. There are words perhaps, that would describe voices, turn the sound into vision. But Kibum doesn’t know them, all he knows is that there are emotions in that voice, and it makes him think that maybe, maybe he wants to feel them in his chest for himself. Jonghyun’s voice makes him think that maybe he could let himself fall in love. That fear of love is still tiny underneath the supernova it could become.  
  
When his eyes shift to meet Minho’s gaze, he thinks there might be something fragile and foolish about the smile that has stretched across his face. Because for a split second Minho looks startled, before his expression settles again into something knowing.  
  
‘Did you know he could sing?’ He tries to ask it lightly as they speed walk away from the room. There’s a skip to his heart that he doesn’t understand, is afraid of thinking too hard about.  
  
Minho pins him with an incredulous look. ‘You’ve been obsessing about this guy forever and you didn’t know he’s here under a music scholarship?!’  
  
‘I have  _not_  been obsessing!’  
  
Minho rolls his eyes in a way that Kibum knows means  _you’re silly and dumb and I refuse to waste any more of my brain cells on you_.   
  
Kibum aims a well-placed kick at Minho’s ankle, and ignores the yelp about ruining his life ambitions and dreams.  
  
He hasn’t been obsessing, he’s just curious. And Jonghyun could be a new toy.  
  
At least that’s what he tells himself when he gathers old sheet music from his early years of learning guitar and demands Jonghyun teach him again.  
  
  
  
Kibum doesn’t approach people. People approach him, try to ensnare him, and usually end up the ones who are entangled beyond what they planned. Kibum is easy to love. But he himself doesn’t love easily.  
  
At least, that’s the school lore.  
  
So Jonghyun has no idea what he’s supposed to do when Kibum calmly introduces himself and smiles.   
  
He’s got a nice smile, Jonghyun thinks. A really gorgeous one, if he lets himself think about it a bit longer. And the dimples almost make it seem innocent. Almost.  
  
Except Jonghyun doesn’t quite think it innocent. It’s the kind of smile that could turn lies on their heads, make you say yes when you meant to say no, promise eternity when you just wanted one night. Captivating. And he thinks he knows why people want him.  
  
Thinks he knows why some part of him wants Kibum too.  
  
But if he wants Kibum, he wants him on his own terms, doesn’t want to be another of the fools who get caught by the throat and reeled in by the magnetism of his stare.  
  
It’ll be a little bit like a stake out, standing in place until there’s a gap in the carefully established front.  
  
But Jonghyun, if anything, has cultivated an ability to wait.  
  
~-~  
  
‘Guitar lessons huh,’ Taemin narrows his eyes and Jonghyun knows this means he’s concocting conspiracy theories about what evil schemes Kibum could be plotting.  
  
Jonghyun snorts. Taemin has a tendency to be dramatic.  
  
‘It’s a simple request, and a simple solution and we’re meeting every Wednesday,’ Jonghyun states it as simple fact, ignoring the over-exaggerated gasp Taemin lets out.  
  
‘You’re gonna fall in love with him and he’ll break your heart and then I’ll have to deal with it and I’m telling you now I refuse to.’   
  
‘You’re adorable.’ It’s probably the wrong thing to say at this juncture but Jonghyun really thinks so. Taemin’s single raised eyebrow doesn’t agree.  
  
‘If I fall in love with him, he won’t break my heart.’ And Jonghyun doesn’t know why he’s so sure, but there’s an inkling, almost premonition that he’s right to believe in that.  
  
Taemin lets out a single peal of disbelieving laughter at his words. ‘The world isn’t as pure as you, my friend.’   
  
Then he sighs. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’  
  
  
  
‘Just so we’re clear, you’re buying me lunch for the rest of the school term right? For payment.’ Jonghyun’s grin is far too familiar for Kibum’s liking.  
  
‘Yeah,’ he replies, equally casual. ‘Be prepared for bread and water all year.’  
  
‘If it’s freshly baked bread, I wouldn’t mind~’  
  
Kibum supposes Jonghyun’s smile is infectious, because he doesn’t know what else to blame when he laughs suddenly. Wild and free. And there’s a certain strange, intense look that creeps into Jonghyun’s eyes that Kibum recognizes. That makes him want to flee, almost.

‘I like your laugh,’ Jonghyun comments. And it sounds like an afterthought, like something barely important. Just a side remark. He doesn’t even look up to see how Kibum reacts.  
  
Too casual, too comfortable. Kibum thinks. He isn’t used to it, he’s used to tongue tied awkward suitors, or angry vengeful clods. Not this. This apparent innocent interest, gentle teasing, soft eyes. It’s not something he knows how to react to. Not really.  
  
For once he doesn’t want to play anything but himself. Doesn’t want to be anything but Kim Kibum, who kinda sorta maybe wants to get to know Kim Jonghyun, with the magical voice and the talented hands and striking blonde hair falling into tender eyes. Today he just wants to let himself be that boy.  
  
‘Thank you,’ Kibum replies, sincerely, and it feels awkward in ways it probably shouldn’t, feels scary. Like maybe he’s stumbling blind into a practical joke. Jonghyun slides a look at him that burns a little over the skin of his shoulders. He can feel his smile shiver on its axis, can feel something strange buzzing at the back of his head.  
  
‘Let’s get started, huh?’ Jonghyun is nice, Kibum realizes. Too nice, and he can’t toy with him. Can’t, won’t. And with a crashing sort of epiphany, it occurs to him that maybe he never actually wanted to.  
  
  
  
Jonghyun doesn’t know why his heart is beating so loudly in his ears. Yes, Kibum is attractive, but if he could be honest about it, so is he. And so are many other students in their school. There’s nothing all that special, not really.  
  
Perhaps the reason Kibum is so desired is simply because he refuses to open his mask to anyone, perhaps it’s just that he is cloaked in a aura of mystery. This boy who never really lets people know who he is, whose secrets are closed inside his heart, and who has only ever let one person in.  
  
And with pretty people, maybe sometimes all you want to do is try to pry apart everything they are.  
  
Maybe that’s why sometimes Jonghyun finds himself resenting Minho.  
  
But the Kibum who looks up when he walks in, isn’t the Kibum they whisper about in the halls, isn’t the cold boy who maliciously twists feelings and then returns them without missing a beat. Isn’t the same boy who had smiled at him with that shadow of motive just caught inside his teeth.  
  
It’s like Kibum has decided to throw aside the masks and pretence, just as he had thrown the expectations of the school awry when he had voluntarily spoken to Jonghyun.  
  
Taemin would tell him that it’s just another ploy. But Taemin is too suspicious.  
  
And maybe Jonghyun isn’t suspicious enough. Of this boy with enough charisma sometimes it could be physically felt. This boy who looks at you like he could melt the flesh off your bones and then shrug and turn away. This boy who could make you feel overjoyed when he did it.  
  
But then Kibum laughs, and Jonghyun knows there’s a part of his heart that has already gotten tangled between Kibum’s long, tapered fingers.  
  
  
  
Kibum can hear the murmur of people just outside the music room, and it’s nothing out of the ordinary but today the sounds are like knife wounds in his skin. When he’s with Jonghyun, he doesn’t want to be the Kibum they talk about, he wants to be someone else, someone real, someone who can maybe become friends with him. Maybe.  
  
There’s a frantic beating at the back of his head that is asking too many questions, saying too many words that make him think too much about why he cares about what Jonghyun thinks of him. He usually doesn’t. People play and people fall and if he side steps neatly away from the massacre of their hearts, so?  
  
It’s easy, when you don’t quite care, to just walk away, no looking back.  
  
But Jonghyun looks like the type to try to pick up someone’s heart and place it back in its rightful chest. Jonghyun seems like the type to cup fingers under broken bones and try to piece them back together. Jonghyun seems the type the agree to give guitar lessons just because.  
  
‘Why did you agree to this?’ Kibum asks, lifting his fingers off the strings, interrupting Jonghyun halfway through an explanation.  
  
‘You looked like you really wanted my help.’ Jonghyun shrugs.  
  
‘And,’ He looks up with a sly kind of smile. ‘I kind of wanted to get to know you.’  
  
‘Oh.’ Jonghyun’s honesty is alarming. Kibum tries to convince his heart that it doesn’t belong in his throat. Tells himself he’s just flattered, that there are no flapping insects in his stomach, there is no heat rushing to his cheeks.  
  
‘Why did you ask me?’ Jonghyun asks in return. And maybe Kibum should have expected this.  
  
‘Because you’re good at music,’ Kibum’s gaze slides slowly away from Jonghyun’s, focusing on the wall behind his head.  
  
Jonghyun says nothing when Kibum pauses. And Kibum almost lets himself change the subject, but he returns his gaze to Jonghyun and whispers, ‘And, I kind of wanted to get to know you.’ The words feel like an admission of something he himself doesn’t quite understand yet.  
  
‘Ah.’ Jonghyun’s eyes feel sharp, pinpricks of considering thought.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Kibum says inanely. ‘Yeah.’  
  
The air between them feels different; too dense, too thick, and Kibum wonders if maybe he’s forgotten how to breathe.  
  
So he’s glad when Jonghyun gently guides his hands back to the guitar and continues talking. Because the air thins out and his lungs start working again and he convinces himself it’s all just due to lack of sleep.  
  
  
  
Kibum’s eyes had reminded him of a skittish wild animal. And not for the first time, Jonghyun thinks his persona had been crafted simply because he didn’t want to get close enough for people to hurt, a defense mechanism of sorts.  
  
There are things hidden under the armour, and maybe Jonghyun wants to build the patience to draw them out, slowly.  
  
‘He’s…nice,’ is all he tells Taemin later. And as Taemin scoffs into the phone, Jonghyun thinks about the way Kibum laughed and the brightness in his eyes and how excitedly he had talked about his dogs and his art and how incredibly cute his embarrassment was he realized exactly how much he had been saying to Jonghyun. How they had put away the guitars mid-way through the lesson and just talked, about pets and food, about childhood dreams and celebrities and Kibum’s very specific opinions about what sounded like two thousand different fashion labels.  
  
He doesn’t know why Kibum has chosen him to reveal some parts of himself, but he’s taking the gift and holding it careful and close.  
  
  
  
_So are you in love yet?  
  
Fuck off, Choi._

Kibum does not fall in love. He does not want to. Even if the other person is a pretty boy that makes him laugh and talk more than he should, even if the other person’s smile makes something in his chest dance. Even if they had ended up talking more than playing music, and even if he thinks he wants to learn everything that goes on in Jonghyun’s head. Even if.  
  
He does not fall in love. He does not want to.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Taemin thinks he hates you, you know.’ Jonghyun says this matter of a fact the third time they meet. Kibum wonders if he has an agenda, if he’s trying to hurt.    
  
But Jonghyun’s face is open. And Kibum thinks maybe it’s just something he wanted to say, simple as that.   
  
‘Most people do,’ Kibum responds. ‘That or they’re trying to make me fall in love with them.’ His face must twist instinctively into something like a sneer, because Jonghyun’s eyes widen and he rears back slightly.   
  
‘I mean. I don’t-’ But Kibum doesn’t know what he wants to say. He just wants to wipe the shock off Jonghyun’s face, and erase everything.   
  
‘Don’t fall in love?’ Jonghyun’s eyes gleam at him and Kibum is overcome with that familiar desire to flee again. He doesn’t answer, just stares down at the wood of the guitar, and flicks his fingers against it. The clicks sound too loud in the suddenly quiet room.   
  
‘He said you hurt someone he cares about.’ Jonghyun’s voice continues, soft. And Kibum drags himself back into the conversation with effort.    
  
‘I do that sometimes,’ Kibum says. And it feels like a confession. ‘Sometimes it’s so easy to make someone fall and then let them crash.’   
  
He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, doesn’t want to talk about this unfathomable emotion that seems to turn rational beings into fools. Doesn’t want to talk about the times he had pulled strings and led people down a path he never intended to complete.    
  
Shame feels like acid in his veins.   
  
‘That’s not kind,’ Jonghyun says. But he smiles, and the acid loosens its grip on Kibum’s heart.    
  
‘Yeah, I know.’ He stops himself before he promises to never do it again. Jonghyun’s smile makes him want to make promises, makes him want to stop thinking and just stare.   
  
~-~   
  
_ I don’t know what I’m doing _ he texts Minho later.   
_   
_ _ I think you do, but you’re too afraid to recognize it. _ __   
  
Kibum stares at the reply in silence for a minute, then throws his phone to his bed and pretends he doesn’t understand.   
  
  


  
  
‘You want to what?!’   
  
‘Ask Kibum and Minho to eat lunch with us. Please stop staring at me like I just murdered your cat.’   
  
‘I don’t own a cat.’   
  
‘Taemin.’   
  
The scrutinizing look Taemin sends him makes Jonghyun feel a little uncomfortable, a little exposed.   
  
‘People say that you guys just sit in there and talk, you know. They’re taking bets to see how long it takes before he breaks your heart.’   
  
‘Why do people talk so much about him,’ Jonghyun mutters. ‘We’re just friends,’ he continues.   
  
‘But you’re in love with him.’ It’s one of those days where Jonghyun curses Taemin for knowing him so well.   
  
‘A little bit. Maybe,’ Jonghyun admits. ‘But he’s not in love with me. And I’m not dumb enough yet to put my whole heart on the line for him.’   
  
Taemin shakes his head. ‘You’re too nice for school politics and games. I’ve never really been sure if that’s a good thing or not.’   
  
There’s a comfortable silence that falls between them, and Taemin starts absentmindedly humming. Then,    
  
‘I’m still asking them to eat with us.’   
  
‘I am your oldest friend, you ungrateful-! How dare you disregard my feelings just to chase some bitch!’   
  
Jonghyun laughs at the consternation in Taemin’s face. ‘He’s really not so bad, Taem.’    
  
‘If you let him break your heart, the only one you can blame is you.’    
  
Jonghyun thinks about the pinch of Kibum’s face when he had mentioned love, thinks about the drop of his own insides at the cruelty that had suddenly flared. Then he thinks about the soft shame that had flickered briefly through the same eyes, and his own unexpected yearning to find out how to love the boy. And he thinks, despite his own confidence, that maybe Taemin’s warning will need to be heeded sooner or later.    
  
‘If it comes to that, I’ll keep that in mind,’ he says.   
  
Taemin sighs and runs his hand through his hair. ‘Give me a week to think about it.’   
  
  
  
It’s a Wednesday, the day Kibum’s grandmother gets diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. And when he finds out, all he wants to do is run home, throw his arms around her and never let go. But he’s only 17 and still in school and home is hours away.    
  
He’s only 17 and it feels a little bit like the world has fallen away from his feet, like every piece of reality he’s held on to is dissolving. Grandparents get sick. It happens. But maybe he had envisioned it happening while he was close enough to hover and whisper love. Not when he is away in another city and the only contact he can manage is hasty 15 minute conversations before she’s too tired to talk.    
  
Minho looks at him with limpid eyes and downturned mouth and says nothing, only squeezes his shoulder. Somehow he knows that silence is preferable to well meaning but essentially empty words and Kibum is glad for the years of affection between them that allows talk without actually speaking.   
  
When he breaks down in front Jonghyun, it’s an accident. Jonghyun is talking about love songs and life and the way music can say things that sometimes we cannot find the words for, and Kibum thinks about love and his grandmother and all the love he’s ever really known manifested into one human and his smile cracks right down the middle. It’s when he feels the tears on his face that he realizes what’s happening, and the urge to flee is back, and almost too demanding.    
  
He takes blind stumbling steps to the door, apologies Jonghyun cannot hear tumbling from his mouth, and it could be shock that Kim Kibum is crying that makes Jonghyun slow to react, but his fingers still clamp around Kibum’s wrist just before he makes his escape.   
  
‘Talk to me,’ Jonghyun says. His voice is soothing, almost like he’s talking to a frightened animal.    
  
‘You’re too nice,’ Kibum says. ‘Why are you so nice?’ And it’s unrelated, but it’s true.    
  
‘Talk to me,’ Jonghyun repeats, as if he hadn’t heard anything.    
  
‘And what if I don’t want to talk to you?’ Kibum’s words are sharp and cruel and the pause that follows is accompanied by Jonghyun’s fingers retreating. There’s a regret in the air Kibum doesn’t want to think about.   
  
‘Then I’ll make you call Minho.’ There’s something that’s almost pain in Jonghyun’s face now. But he’s still hovering, still watching, still looking at Kibum with something like worry, and perhaps, that, more than anything, makes Kibum want to share.    
  
The story spills out in bits and pieces; his grandmother moving in to take care of him after his parents split; becoming the sole focus of childish affection, the symbol of the only love in his life, and now, the onset of his grandmother’s illness, too severe to treat, and her too old to do anything but wait. It’s incoherent at best, and Kibum doesn’t even know if Jonghyun understands it at all. But the way Jonghyun is staring at him, soft, gentle, sympathetic, makes him think that even if the words weren’t transmitted accurately, the feelings were. And he immediately feels exposed, too exposed. He wants to take back the words he had let slip, wants to shove them back under the skin of his masks and remove all traces of it from Jonghyun’s memory.    
  
‘Why don’t you just go home? Go visit her.’ Jonghyun’s tone is tender, and Kibum knows he isn’t being pushy at all.    
  
But he reacts with furious scorn anyway. ‘You think I didn’t try that? My parents insisted I stay here. Exams and school are important, they said. When they know that to me nothing is more important than her.’   
  
Jonghyun is his sort of friend, Jonghyun is someone who has managed to slide under his skin and make a place in his frigid heart, and yet right now Jonghyun is also the person he wants to hurt most. Because it’s easier if people run away from him. It’s easier to protect his heart.   
  
‘So? Why can’t you just go? Take the train. Throw school away for a couple of days. If you land yourself on the doorstep, I doubt any of them would push you away.’    
  
Jonghyun’s gaze and tone are challenging, and Kibum finds himself wanting to rise to the challenge. Who is this boy who refuses to run from the venom he spewed, and why is he wasting his time? Jonghyun makes him feel things he doesn’t want to feel, and to hope for things when he thought hope had died out.    
  
‘Thank you,’ he says suddenly, the quietness an abrupt departure from the ferocity of before. And Jonghyun blinks in surprise.    
  
‘You’re welcome,’ he says, almost awkward, almost shy.    
  
And in spite of himself, Kibum lurches forward and hugs him, placing his arms clumsily across Jonghyun’s shoulders. Jonghyun is a little shorter, he realizes, out of point. When Jonghyun raises his arms to position them around his waist, Kibum relaxes, and the tension of the day dissipates. He feels safe, and so he lets the anxiety of his yet unnamed emotion for Jonghyun be pushed to the back of his head, to think about another time.    
  
  
  
Kibum leaves for a week and Jonghyun finds himself almost missing him a little. Just a little. After all their lives hadn’t really entangled save for their weekly meetings.    
  
Sometimes it feels like the music room is a door into another dimension, with a Kibum who is loose and relaxed and approachable. Sometimes it feels like maybe Jonghyun hallucinates their time together; the shy smiles and pretty laughter and words that maybe he puts too much meaning on.    
  
Kibum doesn’t acknowledge him much outside of that, only occasionally tilting soft secretive smiles his way. And maybe Jonghyun is a fool, because he collects those smiles and keeps them behind his fluttering heart and lets himself think about them more than he should.   
  
There are moments he thinks back to the glassy eyes and wobbling lips and waterfall of grief that had poured out of Kibum that day. And of the unexpected hug he had been granted. He thinks there’s an invisible barrier that has been breached and he doesn’t quite know what will happen when Kibum comes back. What will or will not change between them.   
  
Taemin looks at him warily now, like he’s afraid Jonghyun will shatter at a misplaced touch. There’s something too tightly wound in the center of his chest, something that feels like suspense.   
  
When Minho approaches his desk with a look of sheer reluctance, Jonghyun is surprised.    
  
‘Can I talk to you?’ And it’s so earnest and serious that Jonghyun swallows down the instinctive  _ isn’t that what you’re doing _ response that had leapt to his lips.   
  
‘Sure!’    
  
There is something that looks like pity in Minho’s eyes and Jonghyun thinks he should be afraid.    
  
‘Kibum told me to tell you he can’t meet you anymore.’ Minho says, like the words taste bitter on his tongue. Jonghyun is surprised at the roar of sadness in his ears.   
  
‘Can’t, or won’t?’   
  
There’s now something almost amused but also softly compassionate in the way Minho looks at him.   
  
‘What do you think?’   
  
Jonghyun doesn’t answer. Minho’s smile is tiny and sad as he takes his leave.   
  
It feels like a breakup. Even if what was between them had been nothing but vague signals and uninterpreted signs.   
  
~-~   
  
‘So,’ Taemin announces at lunch. ‘I’ve decided I can be magnanimous and let you ask them to eat with us.’   
  
Jonghyun glances over at where Minho looks like he’s scolding a half listening Kibum. At Kibum’s fingers shredding a napkin into tiny pieces, his shoulders oddly rigid. Then looks back at Taemin’s half exasperated smile.   
  
‘It doesn’t matter anymore.’   
  
Taemin’s hand is warm and comforting on Jonghyun’s shoulder. ‘He ran, didn’t he.’ It’s not a question.   
  
Jonghyun just smiles and pushes another spoonful of rice into his mouth.    
  
  
  
‘You’re a coward, you know,’ Minho says. He really does sound angry.    
  
‘I didn’t want him to want things I can’t give.’ Kibum is adamant about few things, but not being able to love is one of them.   
  
‘It’s not that you can’t, it’s that you won’t. Why do you always feel the need to sabotage yourself in these things.’   
  
‘I didn’t-’   
  
‘You  _ like _ him,’ Minho snaps. ‘And you let him see you cry, and let him too close, and then you decided it was too scary to like him and used me to break his heart.’   
  
‘I-’   
  
'He looked so hurt when I told him.’   
  
Kibum doesn’t like to think of Jonghyun hurt, doesn’t like to think that he had played a part in it. In willfully hurting someone so good. But it made sense to hurt now when it wouldn’t be too painful, instead of later, if feelings were allowed to run too deep.   
  
He tells Minho so.   
  
‘Oh, Bum.’ And suddenly Minho isn’t angry anymore, he’s sympathetic and sad. Kibum thinks maybe that’s worse.   
  
‘I’ll do better next time, okay?’ He’s grasping at straws and lying and Minho knows it.   
  
But he nods and ruffles Kibum’s hair and Kibum hits his arm in retaliation and life just goes on, doesn’t it?   
  
~-~   
  
Life does go on. One day bleeds into the next and the school gets over the falling apart of Jonghyun and Kibum. Just as they had gotten over them falling together in the first place. It helps that they both don’t talk about it.   
  
Kibum stops playing games, and he tells himself it’s because he’s bored and not because Jonghyun’s voice sometimes echoes in his head.  _ That’s not kind. _

  
People finally get tired of him.   
  
After some time, it feels like a dream, even to Kibum, that he had once cried on Jonghyun, had once managed to make him laugh so hard he teared. And if he regrets anything at all, it doesn’t quite matter, because it’s too late to try and he thinks that maybe it’s better this way.   
  
The last time he sees Jonghyun is the day of their graduation. He thinks if they lived in a romantic drama, they’d catch eyes and the world would still and they’d run to each other and tearfully profess love. But they don’t, they live in the real world and they are only 18 years old and they were never actually in love.   
  
So instead they smile at each other, polite and stiff and if Jonghyun’s smile still makes something pulse erratically under Kibum’s skin, he ignores it.    
  
It’s better this way, he tells himself. Safer.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.....hate me yet? hahahhaha. happy jongkey day lolol. don't worry, this isn't the end! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

‘You’ll never guess who joined my dance class yesterday!’ Taemin says, with no attempt at courtesy greetings when Jonghyun answers the phone.  
  
‘Taem,’ Jonghyun begins, voice weary. ‘I’m trying to write-’  
  
‘Guess!’  
  
‘-part of this score and I-’  
  
‘Guess!’  
  
‘-really don’t have the time to-’  
  
‘Guess!’  
  
‘You’re 24 years old. How is it that you’re acting exactly like when you were 17?’  
  
‘I am eternally young at heart. Now guess!’  
  
‘Justin Timberlake,’ Jonghyun says, and he knows Taemin is rolling his eyes even through the phone.  
  
‘Slightly closer to home, Jonghyun.’ Taemin’s voice is amused now.  
  
'Rain, then.’  
  
‘You’re annoying,’ Taemin says and Jonghyun grins in mild triumph. ‘Kim Kibum! Do you remember him?’  
  
Jonghyun is surprised when his heart makes a small leap. Seven years. Surely that should have been enough to wash away something that had been nothing but an ill-advised crush on someone who had decided to make himself completely unavailable.  
  
‘You do, don’t you.’ Taemin is still talking. ‘After all how could you forget the first person who broke your heart?’  
  
‘He didn’t.’  
  
‘He did,’ Taemin says. It is an old argument, one that had Taemin blaming Kibum for Jonghyun’s subsequent year of non dating, and one that had only faded out after Jonghyun had found a girlfriend or two.  
  
‘What does he look like now?’ Jonghyun asks, softly.  
  
Taemin pauses. ‘Good, I think. He’s grown into himself, kinda. You should come to one of my classes. See him, reconnect, show off your tiny muscles, then break his heart like he did yours!’  
  
‘This is not a movie, Lee Taemin. And _I do not have tiny muscles_ .’  
  
‘Well, you need distractions and fun now that _she_ left you.’ Taemin always had opinions on Jonghyun’s choices of paramours and mostly they were bad.  
  
‘Is this how you always talk to patients, Mr. Veterinarian,’ he says, warm affection fizzing in his chest.  
  
‘My patients are animals and they take hints better than you do.’  
  
Jonghyun laughs this time, a real one. And all thoughts of Kibum vanish, pushed back to think about some other time.  
  
  
  
The boy staring at him from across the studio looks vaguely familiar. He also looks like he might want Kibum’s head on a platter, and that doesn’t exactly feel comforting.  
  
‘Who’s that?’ He whispers to the girl sitting next to him. Sooyoung? He doesn’t do well with names.  
  
‘Lee Taemin,’ she whispers back. ‘He’s the best here. Nearly no formal training too. It’s insane.’  
  
‘Do you know him?’ She continues.  
  
‘I think I did...once.’  
  
~-~  
  
Taemin’s eyes track him periodically that day, his eyes boring silent holes into Kibum’s back, and Kibum wonders what he did to that boy once upon a time. This pretty boy with his delicate features that are strangely contrasting to the sleekness of his body, the smoothness of his movements, and the fierce glares that are shooting from his dark eyes.  
  
Kibum wonders whether it was in the time of high school, when he got his joy from leading people down paths and then dancing away, leaving them tied up with their feelings. Alone. But he doesn’t remember Taemin like that. Not really. And he’s striking enough that Kibum would probably have remembered.  
  
Taemin glances at him as the lesson ends, whispers something to the boy hovering beside him, and makes his way carefully in Kibum’s direction.  
  
‘Hello,’ Taemin says, sticking out his hand. And Kibum feels awkward, and shy. This person reminds him of...something.  
  
‘Hello,’ he replies, and it’s uncharacteristically shy.  
  
‘You’re Kibum, aren’t you? We used to go to school together. I’m Kim Jonghyun’s best friend. Do you remember..?’  
  
There’s something that twists in Kibum’s chest at the name. And from the knowing expression across Taemin’s face, something must also twist in Kibum’s face.  
  
‘I remember,’ he says quietly.  
  
‘You hurt him,’ Taemin says, just as quiet. ‘And I don’t know, but I think there’s some sort of unfinished business between you. In an ideal world, he would never see you again. And trust me, I would try to make sure of it. But obviously,’ he gestures at the poster of their end year event in silence. ‘Life doesn’t work that way so. Just leave him alone ok?’  
  
Before Kibum can reply, Taemin snorts, apparently to himself. ‘I was going to be cruel, I don’t know what happened.’  
  
Kibum releases a tiny, hesitant laugh. ‘Well, I’m glad you weren’t.’  
  
‘I told him to hurt you like you did him,’ Taemin says, almost flip. ‘But he’s never been that kind of person.’  
  
And then, without waiting for a response, he walks back to the entrance, hooking arms with the boy waiting patiently.  
  
Kibum watches them leave and he thinks _No, Jonghyun had never been that kind of person. I was. Maybe I still am._ _  
_  
~-~  
  
‘My wife is pregnant and grumpy so you better have a damn good reason for calling.’  
  
Kibum laughs despairingly. ‘Lee Taemin is in that dance class I joined and he’s still in touch with Jonghyun and there’s an end year event soon and he pretty much told me that Jonghyun is attending that and I think I’m going to be sick.’  
  
‘And you care because?’  
  
Sometimes Kibum really hates Minho.  
  
‘You know why,’ he says.  
  
‘No, I don’t know why,’ Minho counters. ‘It was seven years ago, and you never even let it become anything. _Why do you still care, Kibum?_ ’  
  
Kibum ends the call abruptly, Minho’s last question ringing in his ears. And suddenly he’s 17 again, running from something that could have been everything. The seven years between dissolve like mist and it doesn’t matter that he’s kind of had two relationships in that time, doesn’t matter that he had slept with them both, doesn’t even matter that he doesn’t know why he hadn’t cried when they left. It doesn’t matter because the thought of Jonghyun still makes his heart beat too loud, too hard in his ears. He wants to know who Jonghyun has become, what he looks like now, whether he still sings like dreams are caught in his vocal cords.  
  
It feels like a second chance. Maybe. But it also feels like terror.  
  
( _I’m sorry_ , Minho texts later. _That was too harsh._  
  
_It’s fine_ , Kibum replies. _You gave me something to think about._  
  
_Just don’t do anything stupid_ , Minho texts. _I can’t be around all the time._  
  
And there’s a painful twinge of his heart at the words. But it’s true, and maybe he needs to start to learn to love more than just Minho.)  
  
  
  
Taemin’s end year dance performance thing is on November 17th at 7:30pm and Jonghyun is under strict orders not to miss it. In fact, Taemin had taken it upon himself to key it into both Jonghyun’s phone and online calendar, and scribble it in obnoxious print on Jonghyun’s wall calendar.  
  
Jonghyun thinks it’s sweet, if mildly terrifying. But being friends with Taemin sometimes means being terrified.  
  
‘Kibum dances pretty well,’ Taemin comments one day. And Jonghyun hums in response.  
  
‘He still likes you, you know.’  
  
Jonghyun snorts. ‘It’s been seven years. I really doubt it.’  
  
‘ _You_ still like _him_ .’  
  
Jonghyun says nothing at all. Because he thinks if he does, it’s like loving a distant memory, loving a shadow. He doesn’t think he wants to do that.  
  
~-~  
  
Jonghyun buys three flowers on the day, because despite how much he rolls his eyes at it, Taemin likes the tradition. And because if you give one to Taemin, you give one to Jongin. It’s how life works now.  
  
The last flower; he’s not sure what he wants to do with it. But he sees it like a symbol of something, a restart. Maybe. A restart to a game he hadn’t even known they were playing. Something hopeful he doesn’t know if he should be letting himself feel. After all, the time their lives had intersected had been just a whisper of breath in the noise of the rest of it.  
  
Taemin had asked him to go watch practices, something about ‘building up an immunity to Kibum.’ Something about knowing and understanding his limits. Just for that, Jonghyun chose not to. He doesn’t need immunity, Kibum is not a disease. And perhaps he doesn’t quite want to know where the limits are yet.  
  
What he doesn’t want to say is that maybe he’s a little bit afraid to meet someone who’s haunted a small corner of his mind and heart for seven years.

  
  
  
Dance is fun, dance is escape, dance is something Kibum does because he can, because he wants to and because it makes the world seem less dreary than it actually is. But today dance is intimidating. Or maybe just one person in the crowd is.  
  
Logically, it's an absolutely ridiculous situation. Nervous hands and weak knees over a boy he last saw seven years ago, a boy he pushed away before he understood why. A boy who is a man now, whose name still makes something inside of him shiver.  
  
Kibum doesn’t fall in love, people always fall in love with him. His relationships, if one could call them that, started out as experiments, accepting people because they were so very earnest it made him smile. But they never bloomed into anything more. They were always more upset about leaving him than he was about being left.  
  
There are still parts of him under chains and locks that no one has ever really wanted to see. And he never quite wanted to let people see. But Jonghyun, that one day seven years ago, had made him want to share everything, and that scared him, still scares him. His heart being drawn to something he can’t control.  
  
Ridiculous, to wonder, just a little, if the feelings have lasted, if the tenuous beginnings of the string between them had held fast over the years in between. When he had been the one to try to destroy it. When he had convinced himself that he needed to destroy it. Ridiculous, when he knows, that when it came to that point, he’d always really rather go back to hide in the fortress he built, be safe.  
  
It’s the first time he thinks that maybe that plan is a really stupid one.  
  
  
  
Jonghyun thinks dance is music manifested. That dancers are embodiments of the emotions that traverse through the lyrics and notes of each song. He likes watching the interpretations, likes seeing what meaning is understood, what stories people can spin. Choreography is a beautiful art, he thinks. He’s always admired the ability to turn your body into a living canvas, a living work of art.  
  
He’s seen Taemin dance more times than he can remember, dance like the world was held in his limber body, and once they had thought that was the route he would choose. But when the time came to make the choice, Taemin chose veterinary science, and for a while Jonghyun had been furious. For a while, he had thought Taemin had sold out, ground his dream to dust and bowed to the might of the world. But Taemin had laughed at his fury. ‘We’re different,’ he told Jonghyun. ‘My job doesn’t need to be my passion. I don’t need dancing to be anything more than it is now; something I do just because I want to do it.’ And Jonghyun watched him work for his degree and watched him start to build a career and watched the joy that crept up his face, different from dance but just as real, and he thinks, even if he doesn’t understand, maybe he could learn to accept.  
  
But sometimes, watching Taemin on stage makes him wonder, even if no one else does, what would have happened if Taemin’s choice at the crossroads had been something else.  
  
  
  
Kibum has no one in the audience for him, not really. His parents are too far and he hadn’t actually told them, and Minho’s wife is sick today.  
  
Minho lives in a fairy tale, Kibum thinks sometimes. A textbook human being, living a textbook life. Marrying his childhood sweetheart just as he graduated, teaching in a middle school, first child on the way. Perfect boyfriend, perfect husband, and soon to be perfect father. He’s lucky, maybe, to have life flow in what seems to be unbroken middleground. Kibum would find it boring, but Minho is content.  
  
It’s different now, their friendship. They can’t see each other as much as they used to, and Kibum can’t rely on Minho as much as he used to. Kibum knows he should be accustomed to it, after all he even spent a few years in America. But it’s weird, being home, and not being able to see Minho whenever he wants to. Spontaneous and unplanned. Because Minho’s responsibilities are heavier now, more considerable now.  
  
Maybe that’s why he had joined the class at all. To find some sort of new equilibrium.  
  
That could involve Jonghyun? Maybe. If he has the nerves. And if Jonghyun doesn’t hate him. And if he can get over the hissing snakes in his stomach.  
  
Maybe. The word sounds like hope.  
  
  
  
When the lights go down, Jonghyun wonders why there’s something lodged in his throat, like he’s apprehensive, like he’s restless. He’s done this many times before, been in the audience while Taemin dances under intense spotlights. It’s always been something fun, something relaxing, something he did because he loved his best friend. But today, there’s something different, something burning in his veins, like anxiety scratching out its name into the muscles under his skin.  
  
It can be narrowed to down to one person, one human that somehow his thoughts had spun back to erratically over the few years, as if what had been between them was something bigger than what it actually was, as if what was meant was deeper than what the surface showed. An opportunity curtailed before it had a chance to blossom, and maybe this was a chance to let it.  
  
‘Ridiculous,’ he mutters to himself. And then cracks a lopsided smile at the audience member who looks at him confused.  
  
He shakes his head and leans back into the seat, willing the thundering music and sharp beats to drive away the myriad of complicated thoughts spiralling in his head.  
  
~-~  
  
Jonghyun doesn’t know much about dance, per se. Doesn’t really know the technicalities and intricacies of it all. Being best friends with Taemin means that he knows how to appreciate it, but can’t quite speak of why.  Perhaps, for him, all it needed to be was easy on the eye.  
  
Kibum is easy on the eye. He always had been, even when they were 17; gangly, gawky and still slightly unsure about their places in the world. When he was 17, Kibum had drawn him in, slow and sure, and now at 24, Jonghyun is not certain he doesn’t still. The Kibum on stage reminds him of the mask Kibum used to put on in school, haughty and arrogant and sure of his effect on the world, sure that if he wanted to, he could hold them all in his hands. But while the Kibum of school used to make him intrigued and curious. The Kibum of now also makes a trickle of heat curl low in his stomach and somehow that just makes everything much more inconvenient.  
  
He wonders if the mask is still a mask, or if the mask has now become real, or if he’ll ever be really sure of anything where Kibum is concerned. He wonders who Kibum is now, if his laugh is still one of the freest things Jonghyun has ever seen, if he ever made his art into something viable, if he ever let himself fall in love.  
  
Jonghyun likes to think that maybe all he actually needs is closure.  
  
  
  
It’s weird, being the only person backstage who doesn’t have anyone to see. It’s weird. Also lonely. Kibum wishes he had kept more friends from school, wishes Minho was there, wishes he was back in America where he had truly allowed himself to make new friends.  
  
‘Hello.’ There’s a soft voice that breaks through his distracted thoughts, and he looks up to someone who reminds him of that boy in a music room long long ago, a nervous smile pulling at his lips, and a flower being pressed into his hand.  
  
He looks different. His body narrower than Kibum remembers, and his face more angular. There are veins that thread over his forearms that alert Kibum to a gym routine, and lean muscles that he thinks would feel nice under his hands. But the eyes that look up through silver hair are the same, tender and kind, and Kibum thinks he wants to stay under that comforting gaze a little longer.  
  
‘Hi,’ Kibum replies. There are things he should say, perhaps. Apologize for how it fell apart all those years back, ask him how his life is like now, make the small talk he’s usually good at. But he doesn’t. Instead, they stay like that for a while, trapped under each other’s eyes.  
  
‘You got taller,’ Jonghyun says finally.  
  
Kibum is surprised into a laugh. ‘You didn’t,’ he replies on instinct.  
  
Jonghyun scrunches his nose in response, dry chuckle leaving his lips, and the moment is broken, But Kibum thinks that maybe it’ll be easier from now.  
  
  
  
Kibum is broader in the shoulders now, and thinner in the body. He’s still got the kind of eyes that could cut through your skin, and a mouth that for some odd reason Jonghyun thinks would be amazing to kiss. His long fingers are gripping the stem of the flower like a lifeline.  
  
‘Hello,’ Jonghyun says, and he thinks the nerves must be obvious. But the slanted smile that Kibum unveils tells him that maybe he’s not alone with that. ‘Hi,’ Kibum replies. It sounds different from what he had imagined, softer, reserved, more subdued. Once again, Jonghyun wonders how the years had treated him, how he’s treated the world.  
  
There’s a silence that drops between them, and it should be awkward perhaps, should feel like sandpaper against their skin. But it feels almost right.  
  
‘You got taller,’ he finds himself saying, an inane observation he probably doesn’t even need to point out.  
  
But Kibum laughs, and Jonghyun is glad to note that it’s still as loud, as free as he remembers. ‘You didn’t,’ Kibum responds, dimples still beckoning on each side of his mouth, and Jonghyun thinks that maybe there’s still something they could work with.  
  
  
  
  
They go to a club after the performance. Apparently, it’s a kind of tradition. Kibum hadn’t really wanted to go. He wanted to go home and sleep, think about the emotions that Jonghyun still manages to drag out from him. Emotions he thought he wasn't capable of feeling. But some of the girls he’s closer to had looked at him with mute appeal in their eyes and he had thought, why not. Reminded himself he was trying to create a new kind of equilibrium.  
  
He sits by the side and watches his classmates dance, laughing and shaking his head when they call to him. How they have the energy for this is beyond him. He thinks they’re all a little like sirens, thinks they all could be, using dance instead of song.  
  
_There’s a real siren here_ , he thinks, as his eyes flicker to Jonghyun, at an adjacent table. He could go over to talk to him he supposes, their little moment backstage had allowed that. But he doesn’t quite know how to.  
  
Jonghyun solves the problem by walking over himself, lips curled up in a half smile.  
  
‘Why aren’t you dancing with them?’ He asks.  
  
‘Why aren’t you?’ Kibum replies.  
  
‘I’m not a dancer, don’t you remember?’ Jonghyun’s smile is still the same.  
  
‘Do you still sing?’ Kibum asks, in lieu of an answer.  
  
‘Not exactly.’  
  
~-~  
  
Jonghyun works for theatre companies now; a composer, and a songwriter. Whichever wanted his skill, never quite tied down to any particular one. Kibum listens as he describes his work, and just in the corner of his mind, he can see their routes tie closer together and he’s not sure if he’s thrilled about it, or terrified.  
  
Kibum had studied theatre studies in America, and had come back to Korea to look for a job in stage design. It’s odd, that he would end up in the exact industry as a one time unfinished, truncated crush...thing.  
  
It's almost like destiny. Except he doesn't believe in that.  
  
  
  
There’s a certain impish glee that Jonghyun identifies at the back of his head when Kibum tells him the name of the company that he’s going to be working for and Jonghyun thinks he can almost see a string between them twist into a knot. But all he says is, ‘They’re all really nice,’ and hides a small smile behind his drink.  
  
‘I hope so,’ Kibum worries, mouth curling into a half frown, and his fingers knit together awkwardly. Jonghyun shoves down an urge to tug his fingers apart. ‘You’ll be okay,’ he says, soothingly.  
  
When Kibum looks up, it’s strangely vulnerable, and Jonghyun is reminded of that one time that Kibum had cried in his arms over his grandmother.  
  
Silence grows around them, and Jonghyun feels anxiety creep up his spine again. Don’t be stupid, he tells himself. But his hand reaches out anyway, slides over Kibum’s twisting fingers and squeezes. Kibum’s eyes widen.  
  
~-~  
  
‘So, how was America?’ Jonghyun’s voice is tremulous, and he knows it’s obvious that he’s trying to draw attention away from their tangled hands. The tangled hands that Kibum is still staring at. Jonghyun decides it’s a good thing that Kibum hasn’t moved his hands away yet.  
  
‘Kibum,’ he prompts, when the boy in front of him doesn’t answer. ‘You okay?’ That’s when Kibum pulls his hands out from under Jonghyun’s palm. It elicits a twinge of pain between his lungs he decides he has to ignore.  
  
‘America was fun!’ Kibum says, and the smile he flashes at Jonghyun seems steady enough, unaffected by what had just happened.  
  
Jonghyun decides to just listen to Kibum narrate his adventures, eyes bright and voice chirpy. Maybe there had been a window of possibility in a time once ago that has been closed now. Maybe all Kibum will do is run from him.  
  
‘Say something in English,’ he tells Kibum. And the mischief he feels must be translated because there is colour that spreads up Kibum’s face.  
  
‘No.’  
  
‘Why not?’  
  
‘Because.’ Kibum responds, twisting his body away.  
  
‘Are you shy?’ Jonghyun teases, and he almost laughs when the colour darkens. He likes seeing Kibum like this, like maybe there’s a bit of the mask that has been torn away accidentally.  
  
Kibum says something in a garbled tone of voice that Jonghyun is almost sure is English, but could also be something else.  
  
‘That’s not counted,’ he says, muffling his laughter in his knuckles.  
  
Kibum looks up suddenly, like he’s made a decision, and Jonghyun goes silent, caught under the intensity of his eyes. He doesn’t understand what Kibum says but there is deliberate intent in that sentence, something dark and low in the shape of his voice. There is a roughness to the edge of the words that Jonghyun doesn’t hear when Kibum is speaking in his native tongue. And something else seeps into the atmosphere around them, something that makes heat tiptoe across his backbone.  
  
‘What did you say?’ Jonghyun asks, and he hates that his voice has turned almost breathless.  
  
'I don't want to tell you.'  
  
'Why not! Is it dirty?'  
  
‘It's not! It's- I said,’ Kibum’s voice trails off, and the words seem almost reluctant to leave his mouth. ‘I said, can I kiss you?' The last words are said in a mumble, and Jonghyun has to strain to hear them.  
  
‘Oh.’ He says, and blinks up curiously at Kibum. 'Did you mean that?'  
  
There’s something frightened in Kibum’s eyes that makes Jonghyun think that he did mean it, that he’s never done that before. And just as he stands up to run off, Jonghyun grabs his wrist and pulls him close. ‘Okay,’ he says, soft, soothing. ‘Okay.’  
  
Kibum’s eyelashes flutter up and down, like a caught butterfly, and Jonghyun thinks Kibum is like a butterfly, beautiful and free. And something he cannot ever really catch.  
  
  
  
Jonghyun’s fingers retract slowly from his wrist, and Kibum knows this means _you can run, if you want to_ . But he doesn’t want to, he wants to walk closer and tangle his fingers into Jonghyun’s hair, wants to find out what he tastes like, what his skin feels like pressed against his own.  
  
So he draws closer, until he’s standing between Jonghyun’s legs, until he’s so close he can almost feel the warmth of Jonghyun’s skin, until the noise of the entire club is muted and all he hears is his own breath, loud in his ears. Jonghyun stares at him like he’s watching a vision, and reaches out first, touches a single finger down Kibum’s cheek, tracing the side of his face, along his jaw. There is something disarmingly tender in his eyes. Kibum leans closer to him, fingertips tilting Jonghyun’s chin up and pushes their mouths together.  
  
Jonghyun tastes like the beer he’s been drinking, and it mixes strangely with the remnants of the tequila that Kibum had. The kiss tastes like intoxication and a little too much alcohol, but Kibum thinks that without the liquid courage he’d never have done this. He had told himself to stop it after just a peck but Jonghyun tilts his head and runs his tongue over Kibum’s lips and suddenly he doesn’t want to. He wants to suck Jonghyun's tongue into his mouth and graze his teeth over Jonghyun's skin and just feel for once, without thinking. Jonghyun’s hands slide down the sides of Kibum’s body, and his fingers press into the sliver of skin exposed by his shirt, cold against his warmth and Kibum jerks at the shock. When Jonghyun laughs into the kiss, Kibum tugs on his hair and the laughter trails off into a soft moan. Jonghyun pulls and Kibum falls forward into his lap and that’s okay, because now he can slide his hands under Jonghyun’s shirt and around to his back and run fingers up the knobs of his spine, now he can arch his body into Jonghyun's.  
  
He lets a whimper escape when Jonghyun breaks off the kiss, because what he wants to do is track his mouth and get to somewhere private and find out what Jonghyun looks like under his clothes. But when he opens his eyes, he sees Taemin over Jonghyun’s shoulder, staring at them quietly. And everything Taemin had said all those weeks ago slams into his head again.  
  
He scrambles quickly off Jonghyun’s lap and rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. ‘I’m-’ His voice is trembling, and his tongue feels like ash. ‘I have to go.’  
  
~-~  
  
‘I kissed him.’  
  
‘Wow that was seven years coming.’ It’s probably a point to note that Minho doesn’t even have to ask who.  
  
‘I hate you.’  
  
‘You should love me, Taeyeon is sleeping and I crept out to answer the phone just for you.’  
  
‘Minho. What do I do?’  
  
‘Talk to him.’  
  
‘I can’t- I-’  
  
‘Talk to him, Kibum. He deserves that at least.’  
  
Kibum ends the call and gazes up into the black sky and wonders why Jonghyun always somehow manages to make him do things he promised himself he would never do.  
  
  
  
Jonghyun watches Kibum’s back as he maneuvers through the crowd and out the door, and he doesn’t quite bother to run after him. Perhaps he should have expected it. It’s almost poetic now. Kibum comes close, Kibum runs. Rinse and repeat.  
  
‘Interesting.’ Jonghyun jumps at the voice in his ear, he hadn’t noticed Taemin coming up behind him.  
  
Taemin’s eyes rake his features, with just a tiny hint of concern and worry, and then his lips curve into a curious smile. ‘You don’t look broken up.’  
  
Jonghyun just grins back. ‘I’m seeing him on Monday,’ he says. ‘He just doesn’t know it yet.'

 

Maybe it's finally time to find out what they could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timeskip oops.  
> also ninja!taekai and het!2min hehe  
> also! one more chapter and then an epilogue ^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. just in case. tw for this chapter: there's a mention of a non-main character past suicide attempt.

Monday comes around too soon, and Kibum is too caught up in anxiety over his new workplace to wonder about the kiss that made him think of forever, and of Jonghyun’s eyes and the too much unexplained emotion that was trapped under his lashes. He’ll talk to Jonghyun. Soon. He did promise Minho. But not now. **  
**

The head of set design is a girl called Kim Taeyeon, and even though she’s older, she looks younger than Kibum, slight and thin. My best friend’s wife has the same name as yours, he tells her. And her laugh is almost as pretty as her face. She brings him around the office and introduces him to the team members and he thinks Jonghyun was right, that they are all really nice.  
  
He thinks he could get used to this.  
  
Orientation takes only a blink of an eye and then he’s thrust into the daily grind. He’s not experienced enough to handle a play or musical on his own, so he’s given as helper/partner to one Kim Heechul, who at first looks like the kind of person who would bite off your head if you did something wrong. Then he grins, and the sly devilry present in his eyes calls to Kibum, and he thinks that maybe work will be fine.

While discussing the layout of a particular scene with Heechul, someone slips into the room and Kibum starts at the words Heechul says. ‘Oh hello, Jonghyun.’   
  
His heart makes an inconvenient jumping motion, starts beating in a rhythm that feels almost too fast. And he looks up to the familiar soft eyes of Jonghyun, filled with amusement. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He exclaims, forgetting for a moment how he had left things the last time. Jonghyun laughs though, and Kibum thinks that maybe he’s forgiven.  
  
‘I’ll talk to you at lunch?’ There’s something hopeful in Jonghyun’s eyes. Kibum is compelled to say ‘Okay,’ a silly smile he can’t help spreading across his face. He doesn’t want to think about why he’s so happy about this.  
  
‘You guys dating?’ Heechul asks, when Jonghyun leaves.  
  
‘No!’ Kibum denies. Too hotly, he thinks.  
  
‘Ah. Almost, then.’   
  
Kibum has no idea how to respond to that.  
  
~-~  
  
 _Jonghyun is composing for one of the ongoing musicals in the company I just joined. What do I do._  He panic texts Minho just before lunch.  
  
 _The way I see it,_ Minho replies.  _You have two options. 1. Quit this job and get out of this industry forever. 2. Suck it up  
_  
 _I hate you.  
  
Say that too often and I might believe you.  
  
He asked me to have lunch with him.  
  
It’s just lunch, Kibum. Everyone needs to eat. Besides….don’t you need to talk to him about something?  
  
I really hate you._  
  
  
  
They really do need to talk about all this eventually, instead of sweeping everything under the carpet. About the way Kibum had run after the performance, the abrupt cutting off of their friendship all those years ago, the strange pull and push relationship they seem to always be caught in.   
  
In Jonghyun’s opinion, it’s simple. they like each other, they should just try. But he suspects Kibum sees things differently.   
  
In the meantime, he thinks he’ll just hold on to the almost foolish smile that had pulled at Kibum’s mouth and think of it as hope.   
  
‘Why didn’t you tell me!’ Kibum demands again, when Jonghyun pokes his head into the room to call him out for lunch.  
  
‘If I had known you’d be so happy, I would have,’ Jonghyun teases. It still makes him sad that they both can just brush everything aside and act as if nothing had ever occurred between them.  _Denial is like fraud,_  he thinks.   
  
Kibum turns shy at his words, eyes flicking to a corner of the room. ‘It’s just nice to see a familiar face.’   
  
Jonghyun decides to ignore what was not said, and just laughs, guiding Kibum into the little cafe just a road away from the office that he goes to regularly.  
  
~-~  
  
It turns into a habit, Jonghyun dragging Kibum out to eat together at lunch, whispering gossip about each department, things Jonghyun knows that Kibum does not, sharing woes of the day. Jonghyun tells Kibum about working with actors and Kibum rambles happily about how much he’s learning. They text too, off and on. They are friends.

Sometimes Jonghyun buys little trinkets for Kibum, things that sometimes Kibum is hesitant to take. Sometimes Kibum doesn’t let Jonghyun pay for his own drink. Sometimes Jonghyun lets their fingers brush together and almost catch. Sometimes Kibum lets his hand linger too long on Jonghyun’s shoulder. But they don’t say anything about those moments, they don’t talk about what happened long ago and they definitely do not talk about that one drink-fuelled kiss.

They are friends. Kind of.  
  
‘What are you doing?’ Taemin asks him, when Jonghyun tells him about developments. And Jonghyun doesn’t know how to answer.   
  
'I’m getting to know him again,’ he says finally. It sounds like a lie even to him.  
  
'He kissed you, and then ran away. Have you even talked about it?’   
  
Jonghyun suddenly finds the white wall behind them very interesting.  
  
'He’s still going for dance classes, I could talk to him,’ Taemin suggests.  
  
'That would be an immediate end to everything, I think you know that.’ Jonghyun stares at Taemin and sighs. 'I think you want that.’   
  
Taemin shakes his head, his eyes soft and sympathetic. 'I just want you to be happy.’

'I am.’

Jonghyun knows Taemin still thinks he’s wasting his time.   
  
Four months blow past almost too quickly to notice and Jonghyun has two weeks remaining before his project with the company is over. It feels like a countdown timer is ticking down in his head, and suddenly he’s not sure at all if he really wants to push for something that might just lead to Kibum running again. He’s starting to think that maybe having this kind of relationship with Kibum is as far as it will go.   
  
  
  
‘You have competition, you know,’ Heechul tells Kibum one day, mouth turned up in a conspiratorial grin.   
  
‘What are you talking about,’ Kibum says, focused on pencilling in a certain area for set design.  
  
‘For Jonghyun.’  
  
Kibum’s pencil skids in the wrong direction and he swears violently under his breath.  
  
‘I’m not competing for him,’ Kibum announces. But he knows from Heechul’s snort that he doesn’t sound convincing in the least.   
  
‘Well, then I guess it wouldn’t bother you that he’s so chummy with the lead actor in that musical he’s currently helping out with.’ Heechul shrugs and goes back to the set plan and Kibum stops drawing entirely.   
  
‘He is?’ His voice is small and brittle and, in his opinion, utterly, utterly pathetic.  
  
The look that Heechul throws him is shrewd. ‘Go look into the practice room,’ is all he says.  
  
~-~  
  
When Kibum peeks into the back of the practice room, Jonghyun doesn’t see him. But Sunyoung does, and she waves him over. Sunyoung is a new actress, and she’s one of the people that Kibum is honestly fond of in this place.   
  
‘Hey,’ he whispers to her. ‘I had a break so I was curious.’   
  
‘It’s Jinki’s scene now,’ she informs him. ‘He’s really really good.’ There are stars dancing in her eyes, and awe in the lines of her mouth.  
  
‘Oh,’ Kibum says, and he draws his attention back to the stage.  
  
Jonghyun is hovering over Jinki, singing a few notes with him, talking about expressions and dynamics and Jinki looks at him with affectionate eyes. His smile is like sunshine, Kibum thinks. The kind of smile that would make people want to topple over and fall into. He wonders if Jonghyun has already fallen, wonders if his time is up.  
  
Then Jinki sings, and it’s like the world stops breathing. His voice is rich and smooth, like smoky wine. Kibum thinks maybe he’ll suit Jonghyun more, maybe he’ll make Jonghyun smile, like he’s smiling now. Maybe Kibum should just stop playing all the games he keeps playing, and maybe he should bow out.  
  
Jonghyun looks up and catches Kibum’s eye, tilts his head and sends a brilliant smile Kibum’s way. And there’s a leap in his chest that Kibum cannot find within himself to deny any longer.  
  
~-~  
  
‘So there’s this guy,’ Kibum starts.  
  
Minho hums absentmindedly. ‘Is his name Jonghyun because it would be very shocking if it’s not.’  
  
‘It’s a guy that might like Jonghyun,’ Kibum mutters.  
  
Minho goes silent.   
  
'What should I do?’   
  
‘I remember telling you to talk to him,’ Minho says quietly.   
  
‘I don’t know if it’s too late. I don’t know if I even should.’  
  
‘You need to try, Kibum. At least once, you need to try.’

~-~

Deciding to lay his cards out on the table and telling Jonghyun that he wants something, maybe, is harder than Kibum thought it would be. He spends too long pretending that’s not something he needs to do, and it’s only three days before Jonghyun’s project ends that he’s able to pull up whatever is remaining of his courage and ask to speak to him.   
  
But Jonghyun looks at him with those soft soft eyes and he thinks that maybe it’ll be okay.

 

  
The last time Jonghyun talked to Taemin, Jonghyun had been instructed to forget about Kibum and whatever complicated shit that’s going on, and try someone else; like Jinki, for instance. But Jonghyun thinks he doesn’t quite want to do that, not when sometimes Kibum looks at him with an open, pointed, honest expression, not when sometimes Kibum laughs at his jokes in that full-bodied, oddly attractive way, head thrown back, eyes squeezed almost shut, and laughter loud and obnoxious, not when sometimes he reaches over and touches the edge of Jonghyun’s shoulder, just the barest brush of fingers, soft emotion in his face. He thinks it’s probably stupid, stubbornly holding onto something that might potentially break his heart. But he can’t find it in himself to stop.  
  
So when Kibum comes to him one day, just before lunch, expression conflicted, and asks if they could go somewhere quiet to talk, it’s probably not surprising that he thinks he’s going to get hurt again.  
  
‘I don’t believe in love,’ Kibum begins. Jonghyun flinches.  
  
A smile flickers briefly on Kibum’s face, but he doesn’t betray another reaction.  
  
‘My parents divorced when I was five. It wasn’t amicable.’ And the story spills out, an accompanying story to the one Kibum had told him once, in a music room in a time that feels so long ago. Of a father who cheated and a mother who loved too much, and bitter, angry fights into the night. Of a mother who lived for love, and never stopped trying to find it, man after man, each tearing her heart further into shreds. Of one particular man, who made her slip too far, made her take too many pills and try to close her eyes to life forever. Kibum had only been eight years old.  
  
‘She didn’t really want to die, it was like a cry for attention, to get him back. She told me that later.’ Kibum’s smile is bitter, and his spine is too stiff, and Jonghyun wants to throw arms around him and pull him close, but there is too much tension in his limbs.   
  
‘My grandmother took care of me from then. I think she didn’t trust me alone with my mother.’ Kibum grew up with certain ideas of what love meant. The romantic kind that more often than not destroyed people, and the giving maternal kind that he only understood in the form of one beautiful elderly lady.   
  
‘I didn’t want to fall in love, it seemed much more problematic than it was worth.’ Then Kibum looks up at him, and there’s a tiny smile playing on his mouth. ‘Then I met you. I liked you, you know. Way back when. I liked you so much I got scared and made Minho tell you I didn’t want to meet anymore. He was so angry with me.’ There’s an unconscious chuckle that escapes Kibum’s mouth at that memory.  
  
‘Then life went on. And when I got older, I thought, maybe I should try this whole relationship thing, find out why people would give so much for love. There had to be some reason. So I did, twice. And it was easy, because I wasn’t interested, not really. And they were. So I just went along with it. The relationships ended; I think maybe they got tired of trying. I survived. Nothing really changed. It made me believe that maybe I was just not made for this. And that, if you can believe it, was great news to me. Not being able to feel like that meant not ever getting hurt.’  
  
‘And then, you came around. Again. You annoy me so much, you know.’ Jonghyun lets himself laugh this time, because there’s an almost roguish tone in Kibum’s voice now.   
  
‘I like you,’ Kibum says, bluntly. ‘A lot. And it scares me. I don’t like it when I like people too much. But then I saw you with Jinki and I thought, I don’t want to let you go, not without, at least, telling you this.’  
  
‘So here’s the thing, I don’t know if I can do relationships, or trust anyone with myself, fully. Maybe I’ll always be subconsciously waiting for you to give up and leave. And maybe one day you will, who knows? But I want to try. With you. If you want to?’  
  
There’s a hint of fear in Kibum’s eyes now and Jonghyun thinks he wants to reach over and gather him up and never let go.  
  
  
  
What’s done is done now. Everything is out, cards on the table, along with his heart. And he feels smaller and more exposed than he’s ever been. But he tried and that’s what matters, right? He thinks he hears Minho’s voice in the back of his head, thinks he hears him agreeing. The silence after his last words fade away lasts only for maybe a couple of seconds but it’s enough to make Kibum’s heart thud too hard.  
  
‘You’re so silly, Kim Kibum.’ When Kibum looks up with alarm, Jonghyun is laughing, and it looks like a relieved kind of laugh. ‘I thought you were going to do what you made Minho do all those years ago,’ he says. “Of course I want to try.”  
  
‘Oh,’ Kibum says, struck dumb by this possibility of everything that is suddenly dangling in front of his eyes. 'Oh.’  
  
Jonghyun looks at him searchingly. “What’s wrong?”  
  
'You want to try,’ Kibum says slowly. 'You- even after everything. When you should probably run far far away. You want to try. With _me_.’ He gazes at Jonghyun, takes in his gentle eyes and softly smiling mouth. Everything that maybe he shouldn’t get to have.  
  
Jonghyun laughs, reaching out to clasp Kibum’s hand. 'Is it so hard to believe?’  
  
'I don’t deserve you,’ Kibum says quietly.

'Let me decide that,’ Jonghyun replies, just as quiet. When he reaches over to kiss Kibum, Kibum doesn’t pull away, opening his mouth under Jonghyun’s. Jonghyun tastes like joy, Kibum decides. Like delirium. Like certainty.

'I really like you,’ Kibum whispers when they pull apart.

'And I think, I might be in love with you,’ Jonghyun replies easily, one shoulder lifting. 'But we can wait for that.’ His eyes are shining. Kibum thinks he might like the idea of a future  
  
When Jonghyun slides an arm around his waist, Kibum lets himself lean into him, lets himself believe for just a while he can keep him close. And when Jonghyun pulls him in through the office door by interlinked hands and Heechul looks at them both with knowing laughter in his eyes, Kibum just smiles, tightens his fingers around Jonghyun’s, and lets himself smile wider than he’s ever let himself before.  
  
Tomorrow will dawn and there’s a chance he might want to flee again, from the weight of the emotions in his chest, but right now, he’s holding on with all that he can manage. And when Jonghyun looks over, with his heart in his eyes, Kibum thinks maybe it won’t be so hard to stay right there in his arms and just breathe, maybe it won’t be hard to fall in love.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short little epilogue thing ^^ thanks for reading!

‘So, I have this theory about you.’ Kibum can hear Heechul making declarations from where he’s hovering behind Kibum’s shoulders.   
  
‘Don’t you have work to do?’ Kibum grumbles in reply.    
  
‘I have many tiny elves helping me out with that, don’t you worry.’   
  
Kibum just stares back at his screen at the pictures he’s pulled out for research for a new script he’s been assigned and prepares to tune Heechul out. ‘I decided this theory needs to be investigated. I even brought along a fellow researcher.’ Kibum can hear muffled laughter that he assumes belongs to Taeyeon, her closeness with Heechul common knowledge.   
  
‘Do what you want,’ Kibum says, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. After two years on the job, he's used to Heechul's shenanigans. He's also learnt that most of the time his senior's observations are scarily astute.   
  
‘The theory is that to make you smile, all we have to do is mention Jonghyun. And then, your mouth does this automatic- See it’s happening now.’ The last is said as an aside to Taeyeon.   
  
The ends of Kibum's mouth are stretching upwards, he can feel them, like they’re being magnetized from above. Like Jonghyun is the center of his happiness. Which he is. But he's never known it to be obvious.   
  
‘Oh, wow,’ Taeyeon says, peering at him like he's a specimen under a microscope, and Kibum valiantly tries to push his mouth into a frown. ‘Don’t you people have work!?’ he exclaims.   
  
‘Yeah, but this is so interesting.’ She must notice his smile dimming because she whispers Jonghyun’s name in his ear again and damn everything, he can feel the instinctive reaction happening again. Jonghyun is blue skies after stormy days and rainbows when the clouds clear. But they don't need to know that. He presses his lips together and shoves his headphones over his ears and squints very determinedly at the screen. Heechul’s screech of laughter is reduced to a mere echo.   
  
~-~   
  
That’s the scene Jonghyun observes when he comes by to pick Kibum up; Taeyeon and Heechul laughing hysterically at his boyfriend while he glares at his computer screen.   
  
‘Oh, hey mister,’ Heechul drawls, when they catch sight of him. ‘You don’t have business here anymore~’   
  
‘You know I always will,’ Jonghyun objects, indicating Kibum. ‘What did you guys do to him?’   
  
‘A demonstration.’ Heechul slinks over to Kibum’s chair, lifts the headphones and stage whispers Jonghyun’s name into his ear. Kibum lets out a stifled shriek and spins around to face them, a smile he’s trying to restrain just forming on his lips.   
  
And then he sees Jonghyun waiting, and the smile breaks free. Beautiful and glorious. A smile Jonghyun can’t help but return. They stand there just smiling at each other for a while.   
  
‘Oh God, you’re both still so gross. Let’s go, Taeng.'   
  
Jonghyun and Kibum ignore them.   
  
~-~   
  
‘There’s time before we have to go right? Come help me,’ Kibum rolls his chair over and pulls Jonghyun onto his lap. Jonghyun presses his lips to the side of Kibum’s neck in greeting and listens carefully as Kibum chatters on about a new project.   
  
It's been almost two years since they decided to try.

  
There are easy days and difficult days. He remembers the fights and the doubt and Kibum's strong need to run, to end everything before Jonghyun could hurt him. Before  _ he _ could hurt Jonghyun.   
  
(I don't know how to love you.)   
  
He remembers tears and angry hasty words and the moments he wanted to give up on them, on him, on everything. He remembers Taemin saying  _ why do you keep trying _ , and Minho saying _ please hold on _ . He remembers the way Kibum would reach for him with apologies and fear. The way they would fall together after fights, fall into forgiveness and healing.   
  
(It doesn't matter, because I know how to love you.)   
  
But he also remembers the quiet, contented nights, when the world seemed to just be made for them, when Kibum looked at him, unguarded and open, like the universe was trapped in his eyes. When he whispered secrets to Jonghyun in the middle of the night, sent texts of random observations just before lunch, when he's surprised into a laugh, squeezed up face and slit eyes. When he kissed him, soft and sweet, fierce and passionate. When he let his body say the things his mouth couldn't yet.   
  
(I don't know if I love you, but I know I don't want to lose you.)   
  
Jonghyun slots his fingers through Kibum's and leans back into his warmth. 'I love you,' he murmurs. He can feel Kibum's chuckle against his back. 'You're not paying attention anymore, are you?' Jonghyun just turns and presses his mouth to Kibum's collarbone, and the chuckle becomes a full laugh. 'I love you too,' Kibum says, emotion he rarely likes showing threaded through the words. 'So much.'    
  
Jonghyun leans up and kisses Kibum, hard.   
  
It's an easy day today.   
  
(I love you, I love you. I don't know why I was so scared before.)


End file.
